


Hypnothighsed

by I_AM_KING_DAD



Category: MORA - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Boys Kissing, Drow, Half-orc, Hand Jobs, M/M, Modern High Fantasy, Pearl Necklace, Short One Shot, thigh fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-30 23:44:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10887381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_AM_KING_DAD/pseuds/I_AM_KING_DAD
Summary: Bora comes up with a creative way to get off.





	Hypnothighsed

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little one shot I wanted to write about thigh fucking. Fun times.

Bora never pegged himself as a great kisser, and especially in the dark. What he lacked in technical skill, he made up for in gusto. He felt brave in the dark, dashing even. Initially incredibly shy, the evening routine with Malathios had brought out a different side to him. Something hungry. Something needy. He sought to devour the lips working against his, bringing the lower one in, sucking on it slowly, with the occasional nip. These nips were met with tiny groans, and the slight form on top of his would grind against him. Bora would grind back, large hands gripped the naked waist, nails gently pressing into the flesh to keep him in his place. 

 

Small fingers placed themselves on Bora’s beard, caressing gently, idly. It was Mal who broke the kiss, breath ragged. He was looking down at him, moving his hands to rest on Bora’s shoulders. His form heaved in an attempt to normalize his breathing, voice a mere whisper, “Bora...”

 

In the midst of wiping saliva from his beard Bora stopped dead. Malathios had never whispered his name - not in the dark, not like this. It was husky and low, and in the darkness he wasn’t sure how to respond, or even if he should. Humming out an acknowledgement, he ran his hands up and down the sides of Mal’s arms. Whining in frustration, Mal leaned forward, pressing his chest against Bora’s. Bora could feel the flutter of a heartbeat, quick and quiet like a hummingbird. His own felt more like a blacksmith’s hammer, “I want you. A-all of you,” the sentence sounded parched, needy. Bora’s heart could have stopped altogether in that moment. 

 

He wasn’t even sure what was being said to him. Mind reeling purely from the implication of what was stated was enough to put him through the wringer. The thighs on either side of him trembled; to aid in calming them, he placed a large hand on either one. Fingers gliding over soft, dark skin until it met the soft fabric of the boyshorts he wore. Mal whimpered pitifully. Bora grazed a thumb bravely over the crotch; the outline of a hardening member rapidly formed.

 

“Please?” another harsh whisper, “J-just for a minute,” Mal’s voice was unusually thick, heavy with emotion and panic. The words slipped out through the gaps of his teeth. He searched Bora’s face in the darkness, trying to seek any emotion on the otherwise tired and blank face. 

 

Borabar was trapped in his thoughts. This was not the ideal time for them, even though he wanted to. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about it before. It plagued him right before bed and in the mornings when he was particularly tired or awoke from a rather pleasant, yet single-minded dream. He was not, however, one to completely ruin an experience in the worst way. What if it didn’t work out? Bora pondered saying ‘no’ outright, and leave it at that, but felt it would ruin the tenuous intimacy they had between each other. He was afraid of the response or retaliation from the pent up drow, who in these times became rather high strung, even self-destructive. Instead, he chose to take Mal’s hands in his, thumbs rubbing gentle circles in each palm, “So?” Mal proffered, trying to elicit a verbal response. 

 

He would have to say something. He couldn’t just leave the smaller one like this, “Not yet,” he grunted, and brought Mal’s hands to his face to kiss each palm. Expectedly, Malathios whined, but what took Bora by surprise was his lack of verbal response. The small, ragged breaths tumbling from his chest indicated he was too worked up to talk. From above him, Bora could hear small sniffles and little wheezes. A couple droplets of dampness later and the half-orc realized Mal was holding back tears. Almost on instinct Bora sat up and wrapped his arms around Malathios, nose pressed into his once neatly-coiffed hair, “Shhhh,” he attempted to hush him.

 

Mal sniffled into a hiccup, “Nooo!” he wailed and two small hands slipped their way between them. Claws digging gently into the thick hair of Bora’s chest, he weakly pushed, “I can’t!” he sobbed, before the flattened hands turned to fists. 

 

Bora was quick to warn him with a stern, “Heeey-” before reaching up to catch Mal’s tear-slicked face with a large paw, “Relax,” he softened before pressing his lips firmly to whining drow’s. He still sniffled, but the arm wrapped around his torso began to rub in circles on the small of his back. Malathios, once tense, began to melt into Bora.

 

It was difficult to relax when he was this hard. Mal’s thoughts began to swarm and bubble until they became a single-minded task. He rutted up against Bora’s stomach, his erection too much to ignore. Bora reached down and grabbed at the shorts, thumb rubbing at the head through the fabric now dampened with precum. Malathios growled in his chest, humming through their kiss. He was fierce to claim his territory, tongue darting past lazy lips. Bora, in an attempt to be considerate, continually moved backwards, but Mal pressed deeper. The combination of Bora’s tusks pressing against his lips would be enough to bruise him, but that was something Malathios craved. Bora, feeling braver, slipped two fingers under the waistband of Mal’s shorts. 

 

Mal could have screamed, his voice cracking, “Don’t tease me, please!” he sounded needy, desperate - even on the verge of madness. Bora enjoyed this thoroughly. He pushed forward, Mal flopping onto his back, looking up, “What are you doing?” his voice raising to a tortured cry. Bora shook his head with a grunt, and Mal placed his hands over his eyes. The drow was shuddering violently when Bora hooked his fingers and pulled the thin fabric away from his skin. 

 

Cock free, Bora looked down at it with cheeky familiarity. Mal allowed for his shorts to be completely removed, but wouldn’t look directly at Bora. His face was flushed with embarrassment. He wasn’t sure what Bora was doing, but his excitement could be seen in the pulses of his member, “Turn around,” the half-orc ordered, one hand on Mal’s hips.

 

It was hard to believe what he was hearing, but Mal was quick to comply. Settling himself on his hands and knees, he looked back at Bora, lips parted slightly in question, “Like this?” he wriggled ever so slightly. 

 

Bora could feel sweat forming on the back of his neck and chest. He placed his hands on that mottled grey, yet surprisingly silky flesh, “Keep those thighs together,” those thighs. He loved those thighs. He watched Mal shift nervously to assume the position, a free hand gripping himself. His own cock was trapped-pressed tight against his belly by the waistband over his boxers. Once free, the tip drooled with precum, and he slicked himself up with what he could.

 

“I have lube in that drawer,” Mal, now pressing his face into the pillow with embarrassment pointed in the direction of his nightstand, “And um...condoms,” he offered quietly.

 

Condoms wouldn’t be necessary - Mal’s wouldn’t even fit Bora properly. Finding the lube a good idea, he rummaged through the drawer to add a bit of extra slick, and was beginning to position himself, however not at the taut ring of flesh waiting to be plundered, but between the thighs themselves. Mal could feel the stickiness of the lube on his flesh and squealed quietly. Bora held him in place with one hand, “Stay still,” he cooed, while he thrust to the hilt. The other hand reached around, gently touching the head of Mal’s penis, rubbing the slit, toying with him. 

 

Mal quietly sobbed into his pillow. Absolutely dismayed by what Bora’ true intentions were, he whined and resolved himself to getting his chubby thighs fucked. At least he liked him. No one had ever said anything kind about them so this positivity resulted in an infectious, pleasant tingling in the base of his abdomen. Two large fingers wrapped around his dick; Bora was teasing him. He clawed at the sheets below him. They felt cool, his skin was dripping and hot. After a while, his body began to ache in that position, “I want to see you,” he wheedled. He also wanted to move his hips.

 

Bora, sensing Malathios’ extreme discomfort chuckled at just how bratty his lover sounded. He supposed it was cute in a sexual aspect, and grabbed at Mal’s hips, squeezing tight, “Alright, flip on over,” he was gentle, but his strength was apparent. Before Mal knew it, he was staring at the stuccoed paint of his ceiling, and the triumphant smirk of a rather handsome, yet sweaty half-orc whose hair was getting in his face. Planting a kiss on full, pouting lips, Bora then gripped tiny black ankles, lifting Mal’s legs so he made a 90 degree angle. He was able to hold both ankles with one hand, the other idly gripping the back of Mal’s left thigh. Bora continued his ministrations with renewed zeal once Malathios gave him a small, shy nod. 

 

Mal watched Bora’s cock disappear between the spotted grey skin. A hand reached up, fingers moving to massage the head every time it reappeared. Bora swallowed hard and groaned in approval. His other hand reached down to grip his own cock tightly, busying itself on the shaft. The drow couldn’t help but look up at Bora in adoration. He smelled of musk and dirt and perspiration and the general, unmistakable scent of the outside in early fall that was everything that should be a man. Mal drank it in and knew that it wouldn’t be long before he’d cum.

 

Bora was already on his way to that. Left hand still gripping tightly on that fatty meat, he clenched tighter. Surely he’d be leaving bruise on the little guy, but he had a slight suspicion that was something that would arouse Mal later. So he let him keep some trophy bruises. His thrusts were becoming erratic, just as he’d noticed Mal’s pumps were strained.The little body shuddered underneath him, he was whining something. Bora wasn’t paying attention, hands gripping Malathios’ calves tightly. 

 

One last shudder, and energetic spurts of cum splattered across his stomach, a little on his chest. He collapsed into his pillows with a cry, muscles relaxing. Bora shifted his grip to Mal’s thighs, fingers clenching hard enough that purple bruises began to form. The thick flesh on his thighs were too inviting and tender not to. Mal, surprisingly to Bora, didn’t seem to protest, but was brought back to life; his half-limp member lolling to the side, still weeping, knot swollen. He smacked at Bora’s hands, spreading his legs and letting them rest on either side of Bora. Sitting up, he took the half-orc’s cock in hand, and began to pump. 

 

“N-no Mal I-” Bora knew he wouldn’t last long and winced as he came directly on Mal’s chest. The drow didn’t seem to mind and actually chuckled with a sick sense of delight. Bora, thoroughly expended, noticed from the slick sheen of Mal’s skin he’d cum a lot. He hadn’t really done anything like it, but it was a welcome change of pace. Collapsing on the bed next to Mal, he sighed deeply and content.

 

Malathios lounged back, hand idly rubbing his side. The afterglow for him didn’t last long. Bora could sense he suffered from the opposite affliction. Where Bora wanted to fall asleep and perhaps cuddle for a while, Mal now was looking at him expectantly, “I’m going to take a shower, and when I come back, I want to try something else,” he was nearly beaming. Bora wasn’t sure he had it in him. Receiving a kiss on the cheek, Bora watched Mal exit the room, hand running idle patterns over his stomach. He’d be asleep before the time Mal got back.


End file.
